The Good, the Bad, and the Dirty
by Tia-Lewise
Summary: Boundshipping, post-canon. When words are silent, but actions never-ending, how do you even explain to somebody that love equals death? Fic inspired by "The Good, the Bad, and the Dirty" by Panic! at the Disco.


I k _now what it's like to have to trade_

 _The ones that you love for the ones you hate_

 _Don't think I've ever used a day of my education_

 _There's only two ways that these things can go_

 _Good or bad and how was I to know_

 _That all your friends won't hold any grudges_

 _I got the final judgement…_

* * *

 _How the hell did it all get this far...?_

Bakura stared up at the dimly-lit ceiling, cocooned in blankets not his own, but deeply familiar to him. Sticky and a little sore, he debated, for the thousandth time, slipping out of bed and taking a shower. The gentle sigh to his right, and the nuzzling cheek against his neck, told him no, no, he needed to stay here and be comfortable, maybe even sleep awhile.

 _I can't relax. But I -_ Bakura glanced down at the snoozing figure cuddled up to him. Without thinking, he combed his fingers gently through the mussed-up spikes of Yugi's hair. _I don't want to go. Not yet._ The thought of his own apartment, bare, cold, devoid of life, made him shiver despite the heat of their bodies pressed so snugly together.

He hated it, hated how much he _needed_ to be held, and kissed, and shoved into the nearest utility for moments of searing, screaming passion. It was okay at first, when it was Malik, when Bakura refused to give into his own touch-starved desires. That was fine, because Malik rarely wanted to be touched. Even when they fucked, Malik couldn't stand it, and their respective traumas were too dark, too depressing for either of them to cope with. They split, if they could ever have been called a couple, but they still met up at weekends for games, drinks and the occasional booty call, if Malik was drunk enough to disregard the hands clutching at him in ecstasy. Whenever Bakura woke to the sound of Malik vomiting, guilt tore at what remained of his heart. He knew it wasn't just the alcohol that soured Malik's stomach.

But Yugi...Yugi never stopped touching, and it was wonderful. They'd gone about it all the complete wrong way - Bakura remembered the days they could fall into bed together with nothing but raw, carnal lust on their minds; they'd fuck, get up, and go - that was that. As time went on, the more affectionate parts of their… _relationship…_ came along. On this particular night, they had watched a rubbish movie on Bakura's equally rubbish laptop, with much cuddling on the sofa, before retreating to bed when Bakura became too enamoured with the teasing fingers Yugi brushed across his thighs.

As if on cue, Yugi let out a quiet grunt beside Bakura and shifted, stroking Bakura's stomach whilst nestling in to nuzzle at his neck again. Bakura shivered, wanting, always wanting more, and hating himself for it.

"Mm…ah, Bakura?" Yugi raised his head, and Bakura blinked down at him; he hadn't realised the other man was awake. The years had been kind to Yugi, his soft teenage features having become angular and eye-catching, though nonetheless just as stupidly cute when he smiled. Bakura had returned to the living in his original body, and it was all scarred, brown skin and silver-grey hair that currently sprawled out next to the King of Games.

"Hey, Yugi."

"I didn't think you'd stay this long."

Bakura grinned. "I'm always long for you, baby."

Yugi chuckled, leaning in to plant a few delicate kisses on Bakura's neck, and Bakura closed his eyes and tilted his head, tempting Yugi to keep going. "You're so cute."

 _Fuck you! I will flay your grandfather alive!_ Bakura wanted to scream, but instead he just moaned softly and tugged Yugi closer, losing himself to warmth and comfort and happiness he never deserved.

* * *

"What are you up to next Friday?"

Bakura scrolled through his emails with a bored expression as Ryou's voice crackled through the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder. "Nothing, probably. Why?"

"I've finished that Monster World campaign I told you about."

"The purgatory island one? Fuck yes."

"Mmhm. Interested?"

"I reckon I can make myself look like I give a shit."

Ryou laughed softly. "I'll send a character sheet over to you in a minute."

"Thanks. I can hazard a guess that Mai and Otogi will be joining in with this."

"Of course, oh, and Yugi's said he – "

 _Yugi._ "Actually, on second thoughts – "

"Bakura, no." Ryou was always soft, always gentle, but there was a firmness in his tone now, one reserved solely for the man that once inhabited his mind. "You can't keep backing out every time you know Yugi's going to be somewhere. We're not teenagers anymore."

Bakura pushed himself back from his computer and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "Look, I…you know this shit is hard for me."

"I know."

"But you keep nagging me about it."

"Yes."

A cold sense of dread gripped Bakura's heart, and each breath seemed to stutter and fade in his chest. Dizziness made him lean forward in his chair and rest his forehead on his bent knees in an attempt to ground himself. _It's not…I can't…_

"Bakura?" A full two minutes had gone by without either of them speaking.

"…I'm coming over, okay?"

Ryou made a soft, approving noise. "I'll get the coffee ready."

"You're an angel." Bakura was already halfway across the room, searching for wherever he'd kicked off his shoes after work - where were they? Fuck it, he'd go barefoot, Ryou only lived a few floors down. He'd only make him take his shoes off again anyway as soon as he crossed the threshold.

There was a tiny cup of espresso sitting on the coffee table when Bakura let himself in, and he allowed a tiny smile to tug at his lips. Ryou knew him far too well now. The man in question had his own large mug of coffee, no doubt sweet and milky - clutched to his chest with one hand as he pushed a sheet of paper across the table towards Bakura. "Here's one of the new character sheets."

"Thanks." Bakura dropped down beside Ryou and picked up his espresso. He didn't touch the character sheet, merely glanced at it a moment as he sipped the dark, bitter coffee. A low, rumbling moan escaped him, signing in appreciation afterwards. "God, that's good."

"I knew you'd like it," Ryou smiled. He sipped from his own mug and tucked his legs underneath himself, getting comfortable. An easy silence stretched on between them, one that Bakura was thankful for. Ryou was somehow as good at not pushing him as he was at relentlessly nagging.

Eventually, he mustered up the courage to speak. "I don't know if I can commit myself to..."

"To loving someone?"

"Dammit, don't make this sound so pathetic."

"Bakura." Ryou reached out and tucked a wisp of hair behind Bakura's ear. "You've been back for a few years now, and I've watched you trying to find someplace you fit in. Aren't you tired of flitting back and forth like this?"

"I...I just can't..." Bakura leaned his head on Ryou's shoulder, glad when Ryou wrapped an arm around him and gave him a warm squeeze.

"Does Yugi know…about what happened to your family?"

Bakura shook his head. "Not exactly an ideal topic for pillow talk." And how exactly would he even approach something like that? _Hey, Yugi, I can't get serious with you because everyone I've ever loved has left me, usually in a fucking fiery inferno, so forgive me if I can't open up more than my thighs for you, but the truth is - !_

"…I'm scared of being hurt again, aren't I?" Bakura muttered.

"It's not me you should be asking, Bakura," replied Ryou softly.

"Dammit, you should understand this. You've lost people, too."

Ryou gave a short hum of agreement. "It's different for me, though – it's taken me a long time to realise I prefer not being attached to someone."

"Wish we all had it that easy."

"No, I really don't think you do."

* * *

Between the Pharaoh's new court, and Ryou's new nerd herd, it was never a question of who Bakura preferred to hang out with – though a mixture of the two wasn't nearly as unbearable as he wished it would be. Sat around Ryou's kitchen table were Mai, Honda, Otogi, Yugi, and Mokuba (a new addition, having recently turned eighteen), as well as Ryou himself, and Bakura. They'd tried incorporating Seto into their little gang a few times for games night, but he usually just lamented the lack of dragons in Ryou's campaigns and struggled to follow the story without the aid of flashy, futuristic technology. Mokuba, thankfully, was more than happy with a few scraps of paper, a laptop, some acetate sheets and a whiteboard marker.

"The key you found fits into the lock well enough," Ryou recited, "but it's rusted and cracked, and won't open the chest. Desperation sets in, as what is in this chest might be enough to keep you all alive a little longer."

"Can I kick it?" Honda asked.

"Sure you can." They all watched as Honda rolled the two ten-sided dice, and several splutters of laughter broke out as he came up with a measly 7. "A small split appears in the wood of the chest, but as you hop around in pain, it looks as if you may have broken your big toe. The chest remains resolutely locked."

"Dumbass," Mokuba smirked.

"Hey, I don't see _you_ trying to save our lives!" Honda snapped.

"I've got those bobby pins from earlier. I can try to pick the lock?"

"Okay, go ahead," Ryou nodded. "You'll need to bend them into shape first, though."

"My Dexterity is higher and I'm a literal Thief," Bakura pointed out to Mokuba. "Let me do it."

"How about fucking no, evil creampuff?"

 _Ryou was much easier to order around when he was Mokuba's age._ Not for the first time, Bakura marvelled at the fact he was alive at all, let alone having lived to see his early twenties. He drummed his fingers lightly on the table, feeling Yugi's eyes on him and trying to suppress the warm, cotton-soft feeling blooming in his stomach. They'd interacted little over the course of the night, having chosen to sit on opposite sides of the game board, but Bakura was now beginning to regret that decision. Yugi's lips looked extra plump and glossy tonight, and a spicy scent lingered in the air from his cologne; Bakura wanted nothing more than to march round the table, drop into Yugi's lap, and shove his tongue down Yugi's throat. Alas, their present company might object a little to that – well, Ryou probably wouldn't be averse to it as long as clothes stayed on.

Mai's sultry, flirty tone cut across Bakura's thoughts. "Earth to lover boy! Bakura, you're up."

"H-Huh?" he frowned.

"I'm giving the damn pins to you," Mokuba muttered.

"Awesome." Bakura picked up the dice Honda previously rolled. With a flourish of his wrist, the dice clattered and spun, landing him a successful 63.

"Several pins broke during your attempts to unlock the chest," Ryou said after consulting his charts, "but a few splinters later, you have the chest opened. Inside is a cache of bladed weapons, a pack of beef jerky, and a notebook which appears to detail the time spent here by another individual, whose current status is likely unknown…"

The game dragged on for a time, Bakura barely paying attention to the proceedings until Yugi and Mai managed to get themselves blown up by stepping on landmines. "Be a shame to waste them," Otogi smirked, as he successfully rolled to harvest the remaining meat from their shredded corpses.

Ryou laughed so hard the table shook. "I love it. I love it so much."

"You're all disgusting," Mai scowled. "How dare you treat my body in this way."

"But Mai, you look so delicious." Honda mimed tearing flesh from a bone, to raucous laughter from the group. "Don't worry, we'll save the good parts for Jounouchi when he shows up."

"Bitch, _all_ my parts are good."

"Looks like he's getting nothing then!"

They ended the game there for the night, Ryou making a few notes so they could remember where they left off. As they got up from the table and began to disperse across the apartment, Yugi beamed at Bakura, and he forced himself to look away, trying to ignore the fire burning in his core. The urge to grab Yugi and kiss him was becoming unbearable.

"Oh, I got the new Smash Bros.," Ryou piped up from somewhere in the living room. "It can take eight players at a time. How about it, guys?"

Mokuba dashed towards the Switch dock. "Dibs on the screen and joy-cons."

"Yugi!" Honda yelled. "Stop making eyes at Bakura and come pick a character already."

A shock of cold, like ice, stabbed into Bakura's heart. He couldn't stand it anymore, how they all seemed to know, all made jokes about it. None of them knew how it felt to lose all the people close to them, surely. Mai lost her parents, but Bakura had lost his whole world. Panic surged through him, made him move towards Ryou's front door before he could stop himself. Only Ryou's gentle call brought him back to reality. "Bakura? Are you alright?"

He forced a deep breath, removed his hand from the doorknob, then turned around. "Only said I'd stay for the campaign," he muttered. "I'm done now. Going home."

"Oh…" Ryou seemed disappointed. "Well, just pop back downstairs if you change your mind, okay?"

"Sure." Bakura wrenched open the door and fled before anybody else could stop him, before the panic made him either hyperventilate or break down into furious tears.

* * *

The dull hammering of knuckles on wood jerked Bakura out of his awkward sleeping position on the sofa. _The fuck? When did I fall asleep?_ Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at his phone, seeing it was near midnight. _That's early for me._ The knocking sounded again. "Alright already!" he growled, staggering to his feet. "I swear, Ryou, if that's you trying to get me back to the friendship squad, then – " He wrenched open the door, " – fuck."

Yugi stood there, hands in the pockets of the too-big hoodie Bakura could have sworn had been part of his own floordrobe not too long ago. "Can I come in?"

"Um…" Yugi had never set foot inside Bakura's home. He'd always known where he lived, but Bakura tended to show up at Yugi's place in lieu of them making any other plans. Plus, the former spirit just fucking hated tidying. Nevertheless, he gave a non-committal grunt and turned on his heel, stalking towards the kitchen. There were no hot beverages to be found, but he did have beers in the fridge, and he handed one to Yugi before returning to the sofa and curling up in the corner of it, cradling his own beer to his chest.

"You seemed really freaked out earlier." Yugi sat down on the other side of the sofa. "How are you feeling?"

A bitter laugh slipped past Bakura's lips. "A couple of millennia ago, I fought to survive in a world that wanted me dead. Everyone feared me, and it was great. Now…" He swigged his beer and set it down on the floor by the foot of the sofa. "Now, not much has changed, except the fight for survival is making sure I've worked enough hours to afford to eat at the end of the month, whilst simultaneously trying not to murder all my colleagues. Probably still feared, but not in the way that I used to love." Bakura looked sideways at the young man who had invaded his space. "Freaked out _earlier,_ Yugi? Try every fucking waking moment of my life. I haven't been this scared of being alive since…"

Yugi shifted a little closer. "Since?"

"…Fuck."

"Bakura?"

Bakura realised he was holding his breath, and blew it out long and hard before his chest started to hurt. Yugi wouldn't let this one slide now, not after he'd edged the subject in – he'd have to come clean, or Yugi would go straight to Ryou out of concern.

"My family, they…and everyone in my village…I watched them die. All of them." Bakura grabbed his beer and gulped down half the amber liquid, anything to calm the shaking in his hands. "Melted down into the Millennium Items, and I needed them close by, and the Pharaoh didn't understand. He just saw me as a violent criminal, and in the end I died trying to bring my people home, where they deserved to be." Yugi looked as though he were about to cut in, but Bakura continued, unable to stop, "I was just a child when my whole world was taken from me. I never felt the touch of a loved one again after that. So whenever I come to you, fucking falling over myself to get into your bed, that's me needing that touch. But to acknowledge that I give a damn about you, that's…" Bakura closed his eyes, hating, hating, _hating_ the tears filling them. "Dammit Yugi, say something before I start crying."

Yugi said nothing. What Bakura got instead was Yugi's body weight flung against him and arms wrapped tightly round his shoulders. He nearly dropped his beer, but managed to wedge it between the sofa arm and his thigh so he could melt into Yugi's embrace. His cheeks grew wet, but he buried his face in Yugi's shirt, feeling the heavy _thump-thump_ of his heart, and counting the beats, _one-two, one-two, one-two…_ focusing…calming…

"Bakura, I'm so sorry." Yugi stroked Bakura's hair and kissed the top of his head. "I…I knew little bits, from what Atem has said, but never this…"

"That bastard had no right to speak about it before me," Bakura growled into Yugi's chest.

Yugi lifted Bakura's chin with one hand and wiped at his own eyes with the other. "It explains a lot," he whispered. "Why things didn't work out with Malik. Why being around me seems to calm you down. But you're scared, aren't you? That's why you freaked out at Ryou's."

"Zorc wasn't half as scary as the bullcrap I have to deal with in real life."

"Bakura, I'm not going anywhere." Yugi pressed his brow against Bakura's, bringing their faces mere centimetres from each other. "After the shit that's happened to all of us, I can safely say it'll take the end of the universe to tear our lot apart."

"Here comes the friendship talk. Great."

"Well, speaking of friends, I want to let you in on something." Their lips met then, a gentle, sweet brush of their mouths that sent butterflies all aflutter in Bakura's stomach. Yugi pulled back, renewed playfulness sparkling in his eyes. "You act all aloof around the gang, but _every single one_ of them has figured out that we've been seeing each other. And you know what? None of them hate you for it. None of them think you're manipulating me. Anzu keeps asking me when the wedding is going to be, for crying out loud. Fuck, Bakura, they _want_ you to find some happiness after everything we've been through together, and I can't force you, and I won't, but…" Now he turned away, biting his lip, "if you wanted to…you know…be with me…"

 _Why can't I hate you? How did I turn to you of all people?_ His whole life, Bakura had been running away from his fears, only able to focus on one end goal. Now, though, he felt himself stopping. Yugi's words bore no emptiness in them, and for all that he didn't care about what Yugi's friends thought about him, the same warm, cotton-soft feeling from earlier filled him up, a comfort he hadn't known he needed to feel. They were Yugi's family…maybe, in a way, they could be his, too.

"How the hell did it all get this far?" Bakura whispered.

Yugi smiled down at the man in his arms. "The power of friendship, obviously."

"You're so sickly sweet, it's gross. How do you even _do_ it?" It wouldn't do at all, nope, not one bit. Bakura had to remedy that the only way he knew how. Words never came easy to him where emotions were concerned. He downed the rest of his beer, wriggled out from Yugi's embrace, and grabbed Yugi's wrist. "Not in my house you're not." He tugged Yugi to his feet and began pulling him back, towards his bedroom. "Let's dirty you up a bit to match the decor."

"You are completely avoiding the topic now, aren't you?"

"Yugi, I really need you naked and in my bed right now, so please kindly shut the fuck up." Bakura pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the floor; Yugi's quickly followed, and they fell to the bed, kissing and touching as though the world might end if their bodies ever separated.

Only once the remainder of their clothes came off did anybody speak again. "Where's – ?"

"Top drawer."

"Thank you." Yugi leaned over to open the drawer, retrieving a small bottle of silicone lubricant.

Bakura pulled him back down to kiss him again, hands wandering over the firm muscles of Yugi's back as Yugi slicked up his right hand and their cocks with the lube. Bakura moaned against Yugi's mouth, arching up into him, sliding their cocks together. "Don't stop," he whispered. _Don't stop, don't ever stop, because I might die if you ever stop touching me and even the call of my people from the fields couldn't stop me wanting this._

Yugi didn't stop. They ground their cocks together until they were both sweating and panting and on the edge of climax, and only then did Yugi spread Bakura's legs wider, breaking their sloppy kisses to smile down at him. "Doing this with you…it's like a game neither of us can lose, you know? I don't think I could quit you, not after all the time we've invested."

"Don't ever quit me," Bakura murmured, staring up into Yugi's beautiful eyes. "You have no idea how much I need this."

"Me, or the sex?"

"Yes."

Yugi laughed. "God, you're a dork."

He pushed in then, and Bakura couldn't hold back the scream in his throat. This, _this,_ was the final brilliant conclusion to the cravings he always needed to satisfy. Touch in its most primal form, an intimacy nothing else could replicate. As Yugi began thrusting, Bakura wrapped his arms round Yugi's shoulders and held on tight, nails digging in as they called out to each other, lost in their pleasure.

Nothing had changed, and everything had changed, all at once. With every push and pull of their bodies, Bakura felt it, felt the difference in their closeness. He doubted he would ever be able to call their acts mere fucking ever again. Maybe...maybe it was okay now, to show a little vulnerability. Maybe it had been okay all along.

Yugi's slick fingers wrapped around Bakura's cock, and he leaned back to stroke and thrust with better rhythm. Bakura called out, head thrashing, unable to stand the intense pleasure thrumming through his body. It only took a few good strokes for him to tear the sheets away from the mattress as he arched his back, screaming, warm splashes of semen dappling his stomach.

"So hot," Yugi groaned. He dropped down again, burying his head in Bakura's shoulder. His movements became fast, sharp, and desperate, chasing the high Bakura was blissfully coming down from. Bakura's body trembled with aftershocks as he clung to Yugi once more, arms and legs holding him tightly.

"I'm coming, oh, Bakura, I'm coming!" Yugi's voice broke into a high-pitched whimper as he shuddered, pouring into Bakura's body. Seemingly unwilling to hold up his own weight anymore, he collapsed over Bakura, panting. "Oh, damn, that was…"

"Mm." Bakura gave Yugi's cheek a quick kiss, then pushed him off so he rolled to the side. He wasn't much of a cuddler when there was the mess of coupling to dispose of. "Layout's the same as Ryou's place if you need the bathroom."

"Got it." Yugi returned Bakura's kiss, and hopped out of bed to relieve himself and clean up. He swapped with Bakura when he returned, and they both got back into bed afterwards, curling around each other. Yugi's fingers traced random patterns over Bakura's skin, and Bakura leaned into him, eyes closed, enjoying the moment. "You okay?" Yugi asked quietly.

Bakura grunted. "As I'll ever be, I guess."

"Can I stay?"

"I don't know, can you?"

Yugi laughed. "Okay, _may_ I stay?"

"Sure," Bakura shrugged. "Gets chilly at night in here."

"Well, someone needs to warm that cold heart of yours. That'd be a start, wouldn't it?"

 _One-two, one-two, one-two…_ Bakura counted the beats of Yugi's heart again, slower now, calmer. He looked up at Yugi, into the eyes he'd grown to adore far too much for his liking. "You'll wait for me, won't you?" he asked. "You'll let me figure out what I'm feeling?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, Bakura." Yugi's lips covered Bakura's a moment later, and anything else he might have wanted to ask faded willingly into the air.

Yes, it was definitely okay.

* * *

 _And you been gone so long_

 _I forgot what you feel like_

 _But I'm not gonna think about that right now_

 _I'm gonna keep getting underneath you_

 _I'm gonna keep getting underneath you_

 _And all our friends want us to fall in love..._


End file.
